


Morning Commute

by Graymalkin



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Desperation, F/M, Omorashi, female desperation, public urination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-28 22:38:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18765700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Graymalkin/pseuds/Graymalkin
Summary: A routine drive to work is beset with drama and desperation.





	Morning Commute

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a wetting clip on Tumblr.

I have an interesting story to share with you. It's about a woman I've gotten to know pretty well at work. Let's call her Janet. We live in the same speck on the map so we commute to work together. Recently we started dating. 

Last Tuesday began like a usual weekday except that our routine was bumped up an hour. Road work had just started that was gonna screw up traffic and I wasn't sure how it was gonna play out so I wanted to give myself a lotta extra time. I ended up waiting by Janet's house longer than usual cuz she was finding it a little difficult to get ready at that hour. 

Finally she came running down the front steps as fast as her high heels could carry her. She put her things in the back, put her blazer on the hook, hopped in the passenger seat, and gave me a kiss. So far it was a pretty normal morning. 

It got interesting when the marked detour led to a place where traffic was crawling like molasses. Janet commented she hadn't used the bathroom before leaving the house because she was running late and now she was regretted it. I noticed her squirming uncomfortably in her seat. As you know I have a certain fondness for the ways women move and talk when they're hankering for the little girls' room. I made a point to get some good looks at her body language without staring rudely. 

After some time in the slow lane Janet put pressure on me to find a better route. I could tell by the way her legs were twitching I wasn't the only one under pressure. I didn't wanna let her down so I got bold and aggressive and pretty soon I got lost. Janet turned on the navigator app and tried to direct me but something went wrong and we got really far outta our way. 

"Stop at the next gas station you find," she told me after a bit. 

"We're on the right track now," I told her.

"Not for directions," she said. "For restrooms." I loved the quick breathy way she said it. She was getting blatantly desperate. During the next right turn I stole a glance at her legs. They were jiggling lots worse than before. Her feet were practically dancing. 

Before too long there was a gas station coming up. I signalled a turn but Janet had another idea. 

"Not this place! It's disgusting." 

"You sure you don't wanna use it anyway?" 

"I'm a grown woman," she snapped. "I can make my own restroom choices." 

I apologized for second-guessing her and we drove past the station. 

The next place that was sure to have public restrooms was the Walmart at the outskirts of the city. It was quite a ways down the road. In that time Janet fiddled with her phone real nervously. Her legs were crossed tightly by this time but there was still noticeable twitching. Her hands were a little twitchy too and she dropped the phone between our seats. 

"Damn! I can't do anything right today. I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier by the way. I'm really not having a good day." She tried to fish out the phone but ended up twisted into a position that musta been awful uncomfortable. She sat back up real quick but not before making a squeak that sounded real feminine and real desperate. It was music to my ears. 

"You like this don't you?" she asked in that sorta tone your mom'd use when you were misbehaving.

"No!" I insisted. "I'm having a bad day too. I'm stressed and I got us lost and I'm making your day worse." 

"I'm not mad. I'd just like to know if you enjoy what you're seeing. I think you know what I mean." 

I tried to answer in a way that didn't sound inappropriate. "You mean having to hold it? Of course I don't want you being all uncomfortable and embarrassed and miserable like that." 

"But since it's happening you'd like to make the most of it wouldn't you?" 

"What?" I asked. I was getting real nervous about what I was gonna have to tell her and how she was gonna take it.

"It's all right to admit it," she said. Her voice wasn't annoyed anymore but it didn't sound friendly either. "There are many men who like to watch women pee." 

My heart was going full tilt. I didn't know what to say so I didn't say anything. 

"There are even women who like to be watched," she added with her volume turned down and her tone turned sorta intimate.

I was uneasy, nervous, and dry-mouthed but I managed to choke out a question. "Do you?" 

"I won't know until it happens," she answered coyly. 

When my car was inside the boundless parking lot of the Walmart Janet changed our plans again. 

"I'm not going to make it," she announced quickly and anxiously. "Just park out here and I'll go between the cars." 

I pulled in a spot between a couple big empty trucks. She'd already undone her seatbelt and was waiting for the car to stop with bated breath and crossed legs. 

"Hurry or you'll miss the show," she whispered with a flicker of a smile right before she hopped outta the car.

She didn't have to tell me twice. I was out the door and round the back by the time Janet's skirt was hiked up. 

Watch my prose get all flowery now that I get to describe my first gander at a woman emptying her bladder. 

There in the valley formed by two columns of parked vehicles the lovely lady relieved herself. Under the white dress shirt I could see her bosom rapidly rising and falling from the activity and desperation that had led to this moment. She crouched on the asphalt with her knees bent all the way, her ankles propped up high by her heels, and her legs wide open at the front. She looked like a lovely butterfly. 

She closed her eyes and let it flow. There hadn't been time to slide her panties down her legs. The pure white fabric was blemished by an expanding spot of dark yellow. As the underwear became saturated the yellow liquid collected at the bottom and formed a line falling straight down. Sounds of breathing were joined with sounds of drizzling. The stream widened to a golden waterfall that glistened in the morning sunlight. The tentative drizzling sound became a splattering rush accompanied by a trickling flow. The dark stain on the asphalt became a yellow puddle wide enough that it enveloped the heels of her shoes and pressed on toward the toes. 

She opened her eyes about the time her flow ended but it took a few moments to calm herself. Her wet panties dripped periodically as her breathing slowly returned to normal. She then stood up and adjusted her skirt. She'd wet herself so artfully it had left no outward evidence on her person. 

So that was it. No more desperation. No more talking about the issue. We got in the car and were off to the races. 

I still don't know if she somehow changed into clean panties, decided to go naked under her knee-length skirt, or just spent the whole day in urine-soaked underwear. We're not at a point in our relationship where I feel right asking.


End file.
